364 days

It's been 364 days since I saw my mama last. 364 days of the most unexpected emotional rollercoaster ride I've ever been on. I wasn't sure how her one year would affect me but sure enough, it has hit me like a ton of bricks. My son, Kamden, is so keen on my emotions even if I hide them and he has truly been my rock and saving grace at just 3.5 years old. All weekend he kept telling me "I love you sooo much mama" about 30 times more than the usual 15 times a day❤️ He knows what I need when I need it the most and I truly believe my mama lets him know that. He saw me crying yesterday and said "I know you miss your Nana (she's his nana), mommy. It's okay. I wish her could come down from the moon in Kevin (heaven) and cuddle us." He talks about her every single day and cries for her when he's sad or hurt. She is so deeply missed that it hurts me to my soul. I would give anything in this world to take the understanding of loss away from my little boy right now. He shouldn't have to know what death is yet. I am most definitely in the denial stage of grief still. How is she gone? Forever... HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?! I dance back and forth between denial and anger every time I let myself think about the reality of it all. Why the fuck did she have to die such an awful, heartbreaking, unexpected death and not get to say goodbye to all of us that she loved the most?! I get it, life isn't fair, but it shouldn't have to be cruel. Nothing I've ever been through has ever left this kind of scar on who I am as a person. Motherless. Just identifying with that makes me cry because I was always scared my whole childhood of losing my mom, and even my dad, that I would get anxiety and cry to my dad about death and my fear of it. Maybe I knew something awful would happen later in my life? Maybe in a past life something awful happened and my soul held onto that? I would love to know but like most life shaking things, we never get answers. I often make myself stop thinking about my moms death because it's too much to handle when I'm busy non-stop and not able to just break down and cry but today I can't stop the memories of that horrible week from barreling into my mind like a freight train. I thought of the photos I took while she was in that hospital bed and how I hate seeing them because it shreds me apart to see her that way. The other day I was very anxious about her one year coming up and I talked myself out of it by remembering her "actively" for the first time since she passed. I was able to hear her laugh and see her walking through my house and smell her. Normally, it's just a still image in my mind of a photo of her. That active memory made me feel her presence all around me and it was incredible. The photo that comes to my mind most, second to the photos I have of her hands, is the sunrise coming through her window. I would see the sunrise almost every morning because I was up all night watching her monitors and making sure she was still breathing. Every new dawn gave me hope that she would miracously pull through because she made it another day. It was the sliver of hope that I needed and pushed me through those 5 days in the Neuro ICU, even if it was false hope.. I never let go of her hand. I would let someone else hold her hand and have their time with her but I always made sure her hand was held. I was so scared that she was scared and knew her fate before I did. As horrible as it sounds, I knew she wouldn't make it because of how detrimental her condition was, I just couldn't accept it then and truthfully I still can't accept it now. I've made it a year without her and I don't think it's gotten easier with time as people say. This kind of wound doesn't heal but I pray that this time next year I will have let myself grieve more and that I will have a lighter heart. One thing I know for sure is her grand baby and I will continue to remember her and talk about her every single day and I look forward to her showing up for me every time I need a sign from her the most.💜 I hope you're dancing on the moon wild child🌙✨💫
forever missing you.